The vast ocean loomed off the ship’s port side as they sailed close to the shore. Dark clouds swirled in the distance. Flashes of lightning illuminated the mass, popping high and low. A seaman leaned close to be heard over the wind. “The Sea of Storms is lively today,” he said to me. “Why is it called the Sea of

I run. Or rather, I like to say that I run, but I probably jog. I have running shorts, running shirts, and running shoes. But I jog. There’s probably a speed threshold between jogging and running, and I’m pretty sure I’ve fallen beneath the required minutes-per-mile. I used to run. Once I could sustain nearly an eight-min-mile average over five

I bleached out the fountain in the front yard today. It had literally gone green with algae. Who knew that water recycled through two tiers of fancifully molded concrete would sprout day-glo green algae within a month? Who, I ask you? Okay, probably everybody who has ever owned a fountain. Or a pool. Or paid any attention to water. ….

So I started listening to The Fault in Our Stars yesterday while weed-whacking “the verge,” as Gandalf might say. And I am blown away. As a writer, I can often see where a story is going before I’m too deep into it. As a reader, I can spot a great book when, even though I can see what is coming,